


Jealous Red

by Evil_Little_Dog



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Community: fanfic_bakeoff, F/F, Femslash, Jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-05
Updated: 2012-05-05
Packaged: 2017-11-04 20:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary:  Drusilla sometimes gets jealous, and takes matters into her own hands.  Fangs.  Whatever.<br/>Disclaimer:  All hale Joss!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jealous Red

Drusilla sometimes gets jealous of her little brother. Maybe it’s the way he looks at Mummy-Darla, his cherry-red lips in a strange little pout. Maybe it’s because he’s sometimes a pest, when she wants to be with Darla by herself. Maybe it’s the smile he offers when he returns from a hunt – not at all like her darling boy Spike’s smile, this one is wide and joyous and not at all slick and dangerous. 

Darla pets him and Drusilla pouts. “Mummy,” she says, sidling closer, “don’t you love your little girl, too?” She makes a sound in her throat, like a little kitten might make, just before she might tear it away from its mother. Nuzzling Darla’s throat, her hands slowly sliding around Darla’s waist, slender, pale boa constrictors, with fangs painted in black and white, Drusilla licks Darla’s throat, her teeth barely grazing that alabaster column, but still enough to leave behind the faintest streaks of blood. Drusilla suckles at them, hearing Darla’s gasp, feeling her tilt her head to the side, offering more. 

Drusilla skims one hand up Darla’s stomach, finding the weight of a breast and cupping it in her hand before pinching a perking nipple through the rich scarlet of fabric covering it. Darla turns in her arms, capturing Drusilla’s face and kissing her hard, her teeth slicing through Drusilla’s lower lip, making the blood well. 

“Go away, Connor,” Darla says.

As he obeys, leaving the room, Drusilla licks her lips and smiles. “Tastes like cherries,” she says.


End file.
